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Thursday, June 23, 2011

Sunset

The first measurable rain in 5 months produced 
this sunset last night.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Interesting Film


Zero 
A stop-motion film by Christopher and Kristine Kezelos. 
So many issues.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Does Over Parenting = Unhappy Adults?

Lou Brooks
In terms of parenting, on a scale of 1-10, I consider myself a 14. I'm not bragging or patting myself on the back, though, because I'm beginning to realize that I (and so many of my friends who competed for Queen Mom) may have made a grave mistake. A recent article in The Atlantic suggests that over concentration on making your kids happy may doom them to unhappiness later in life. The article, "How to Land Your Kid in Therapy," is making headlines and I think there may be something to it. I know that whenever something is popular or desired (whether it be perfect parenting or Martha Stewart's lifestyle), there is someone out there who is chomping at the bit to bring it down, usually by producing data or quasi-proof that everyone is wrong. My instinct was usually that the critic was one of those people who likes to say, "All you people are going in the wrong direction. You're idiots." Sometimes that's true, but it's not just this article that has had me thinking this way. Little background: I have one child. One child with whom I was home for twelve years. He was the focus of my undistracted attention, which was also partly to blame for the demise of my marriage - but that's another story. I wasn't just room mom, I was PTO president. Sometimes he would say to me, "Can't you just be a regular mom?" But I didn't hear him. I mean, I heard his words, but I thought that if volunteering a few hours a month at school was good, then winning recognition for over 100 hours per year was better. And I wasn't alone. Most of my friends did the same -- I just took it one step further. I had snacks waiting for him daily when he came home, prepared with multi-colored bread I drove all over to find. I created paparazzi events when he boarded the bus on the first day of school, baked homemade croissants for my fellow parents at the bus stop, planned summer field trips for his friends and enrolled him in gymnastics, which ended up taking up 24 hours per week in practice and $6k per year in tuition and travel. He had a choice...sort of. It became his life and he didn't really know any better. But I did. I fell into the trap of getting sucked into extracurricular things that consume your life as a child and as a family. As his successes at gym grew, the rest of his life faltered. But I wanted him to be happy, or what I perceived it to be, even if it meant excluding everything else. I cheered him on, as I always had, at school and at competitions and I hoped it would be enough. 

When he had his almost inevitable sports-ending injury, everything came to a screeching stop. There was nothing to fall back on. He was a kid who had heard applause most of his life for things he could no longer do. At school, he stood out because of me, because I was a constant presence. He struggled with generating his own value...and it was my fault. It's not just my kid. I see his friends, who have also never known disappointment; who've never pumped their own gas, or had to work for a car or did anything without the safety net of their overprotective parents. They don't know failure or struggle or hunger - and not just hunger for food - hunger for something that they have to work for. There's no satisfaction in getting anything because they haven't earned anything. Everything is handed to them by parents like me, well-intentioned parents who want better for their kids. They go to schools where they are applauded for going to the bathroom, given bonus points for sharing, and trophies just for showing up. Individual accomplishment - as well as natural talent - is marginalized when everyone gets a trophy, why don't we see that? And so, we release these woefully unprepared kids out into the world and wonder why they're so unhappy. They had amazing childhoods, supportive parents, days filled with pool parties and summer vacations. Why are they so sad? Could it be because real bosses don't welcome you with snacks and sandwiches made with rainbow colored bread? There's no applause when you turn in your project at work and you don't get a trophy just for coming in to work every day. 

For my child, reality hit home a bit early. The divorce forced him into seeing the world a lot differently. He's had a job since he was 15, lives at home but pays for his insurance, car, gas and some groceries. It was a shock at first but I think he's proud of his growth...and so am I. We speak of it often, how he sees his friends as unhappy and how shocked he is at how naive they are. There but for the grace of God... He still struggles with disappointment and some sadness but I'm lucky that he's a very self-aware young man who understands why he feels this way. He says he's sorry that he had to give up that kind of life but says he wouldn't have had it any other way. He pities his friends who have yet to see the light of self-sufficiency and wonders how it will affect them when they're out on their own. I look at my mistakes and see new parents making those same mistakes and want to warn them but I suppose epiphanies are self-actuated. As parents, we do our jobs as best we can and cross our fingers that they'll be okHe makes mistakes, some spectacularly stupid ones, and I've learned to let him fall. It's crucial that he learns to pick himself up on his own. And when he does, I acknowledge, but I don't applaud.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Happy Father's Day!

It's funny, when I think of my dad, I remember the times when he would thump me on the forehead and say, "You're a 'pohaku head.' No common sense." In Hawaiian, I think it means 'hard-headed, like a stone.' I now look at it as a term of endearment but at the time, it just hurt. Ouch. Happy Father's Day, Daddy.  Miss you.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Happy 12th Birthday to Sam

Happy birthday sweet Sam!! 
You are the perfect puppy....sweet, smart, loyal and true. 
I'm so happy you're here, beautiful boy!